~The Queen's Butler...Arrogant~ (Charles Grey x Reader)

Chapter 12: The she-butler, a player

A/N: Lmao there's gonna be a lot of pov switching near the end, so sorry if it get's a lil confusing. Anyways, enjoy!

Grey's POV

(Y/n) didn't even look at me as she entered the kitchen the next morning. She simply scoped out the area, most likely for Phipps, and then headed to the counter and prepared the ingredients. And when I say that it stung on the inside, I mean it stung, rather harshly. It hurt especially bad considering what I had seen last night, her in Phipps' arms. I wish she'd crawl into my arms. Phipps could never appreciate her like I do. Love her like I do. He just wouldn't. Couldn't. Only I could. I'd give her everything, do anything for her. I'd be at her every beck and call, I'd risk my life if it meant she was happy. He couldn't mimic such devotion, and if he ever tried, then I'm afraid he'll only be seen as an obstacle that needs to be eliminated...

"Grey?" I jumped, startled as I looked up to see Phipps standing behind me, a hand to my shoulder with a concerned look to his face.
He pointed to in front of me.
"...you've been scratching your wrist...you're bleeding."

I looked down at my wrist to see that I had, in fact, been scratching at it to the point it had started bleeding. My thoughts had drowned out my senses, I figured, I was slowly slipping away from sanity, I could feel it.

Clearing my throat, I pulled my handkerchief out of my breast pocket and dabbed at the blood before holding the cloth there and waiting for the bleeding to stop. Phipps hand never came off of my shoulder, he only knelt down next to me, so he was just under eye level with me.

"Are you alright Grey? It's not often that I see you like this," he asked in a hushed voice, my eyes wondering to him before they turned to look toward the woman who was in the process of making our breakfast.
I didn't answer, and I assumed that Phipps had followed my eyes, since he leaned in a little closer to me.
"C'mon," he whispered, standing up and looking over at (Y/n) again, "(Y/n), Grey and I are going to go for a walk in the garden, we'll be back shortly."

(Y/n) nodded, and Phipps waited for me to get up. Once I had, I began walking alongside him, through the hallways and out into the fresh, icy morning air. The garden was always beautiful in the morning, little droplets of dew speckled across petals like someone had thrown silver into a satin sheet, glittering, dazzling. (Y/n)'s wisteria tree was particularly prepossessing at this time of the day, sometimes I'd see her from my window, sitting underneath it with a book and still in her pyjamas, and I'd always smile to myself thinking,

Wow, what a beautiful creature.

"What's bothering you, Grey?"

I was shaken from my thoughts by the sound of Phipps' voice, to which I turned to face him with a blank look to my features. Did I really want to tell him of what I was thinking? I mean, part of that would be unleashing my rage onto him, and even though I was upset I would still call him my brother. So why did I want him to die whenever he interacted with (Y/n) in a way that could even slightly mean a more intimate relationship?

"Phipps I....I think I love her," I admitted, nearly gasping as the words left my lips for the fact that I had finally said it out loud to both myself and someone else.

At first it felt as though someone had punched me really hard in the gut, but then it became refreshing, like a cold breeze had just blown past my face, through my hair. What a strange feeling it was.

"I know," Phipps said, a sweet smile coming to his face as he looked up at me, "the way you look at her is a dead giveaway."
I blushed and looked down, crossing my arms.
"Hm, I should've known you'd have figured it out sooner than I, you are one of the Queen's butlers," I sighed, tightening my grip around myself.
"But so are you. Why is it that you hadn't figured it out sooner?" he asked, his sweet smile morphing to a gentle frown.
"Denial, perhaps. I mean, you are the better of the two of us," I sighed, flicking a strand of my silver hair from my eyes.
"Says who?" Phipps chuckled, myself feeling hurt begin to creep up from the pits of my gut as I looked away from him.
"...says her. She likes you, Phipps. Don't you know that?" I asked, rubbing my sides as if the cold was bothering me, "you're smart, literate, you have good hand writing, and you're a wonderful cook and swordsman. What more could she ask for?"
"Grey, she may like me. But she loves you."